Smelly man hair....

I love my husband. I really do. And I love everything about him. I love the way he blathers on and on about powder horns and muskets. I love his endless marathons watching the History channel.I love his sharp wit and his sharp swords. And who needs crystal candlesticks when you can adorn your coffee table with petrified tree roots?
My husband is different. I am too (in case you hadn't noticed) and so we get along great.
And I have to admit that I'm totally in love and lust with him. He is fantastically sexy and I get weak in the knees every time he kisses me. (even after 17 years together)
So....it's not uncommon for me to roll over at night and kiss him countless times on the lips and neck and tell him I love him.
But sometimes,I miss. I end up planting a big one on his chest. That's not too bad really. It might start something (hubba hubba)but other than that, it's no big deal.
It's when I get a mouth full of armpit hair, that I start rethinking the late night mooches. It's not bad if there's still some Old Spice hanging around and I actually have grown fond of Old Spice. Seventeen years of it has turned me into an Old Spice junkie of sorts.But on the special days when there is nothing but a mouthful of skunk piss odored armpit hair,I swear I won't kiss anything in the dark again.
I'm not complaining about my sweet man's personal hygiene. I know I have my own troubles in that department. He is normally as mouthwatering as a hot fudge sundae with nuts (no pun intended.) But occasionally, there is a break down in the tastiness department. Mainly it's on real long days where no matter how hard you work and no matter how long you work you just can't get finished. So you fall into bed exhausted.
Smelly man hair is not the norm...it's the exception...
I, of course look delicious every morning when I awake. The sun shines on me and the birds sing and everything is right with the world...
Umm....ok.
When I wake up, my breath smells like I've been chewing on a cat turd all night and my hair resembles a clown wig. I normally climb out of bed, kick up one leg and fart then shuffle to the bathroom in the nude, allowing him a great view of my ass, which after squirting out four kids is probably not a pretty perky picture anymore. Then as I return from the bathroom, he can get a full frontal view.(We won't even go there except to say if you're planning on breast feeding be aware of the distance between the baby and your breasts.Them things ain't made of rubber and won't bounce back when you're finished so don't try stretching them out so you can nurse and drive at the same time.)
Ahem...as I was saying...Returning from the bathroom,I'm naked and I'm probably still farting, but more quietly and with more rhythm because they are released with each step. I may or may not be scratching my nose and/or my bikini area.( The hair growing back itches like the chicken pox and I have had too many unsuccessful waxes so I have to shave. I'll tell you about the eyebrow and a half story some other time.Then you'll see why I don't wax.)
I'm sure my nose is wrinkled up and my mouth is half open, hoping for someone to pour coffee in it.
Very beautiful I'm sure....
But regardless of how I look in the morning, he still loves me. And for that I am grateful.Especially when he catches me grunting on the toilet or talking to the cats in my Elmo voice.

It's the special moments like these that make our relationship hot after all these years.

I'm looking forward to the weekend.There is always more time for us on the weekends. Last night we went to bed early but we were both tired. We watched TV and fell asleep. But tonight, if he gives the old armpit an extra swipe of Old Spice,you can bet I'll be smiling in the morning while I'm farting and scratching and brushing the snarls out of my hair.

Ain't love grand?